


Cooking Lessons

by DrearyBanana



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29342472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrearyBanana/pseuds/DrearyBanana
Summary: Akaashi Keji shares his latest attempt in the kitchen with his long time boyfriend.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Cooking Lessons

“Try it.” green eyes met gold ones over the unassuming plate of chicken stir fry resting on their shared kitchen counter. As usual, Bokuto blinked first. He glanced down at the plate. It looked fine, but so had the omelet and look how that turned out. In Akaashi’s defense paprika and cayenne did look similar in the bottle, and Bokuto’s handwritten labels were hard to read sometimes. On the other hand, Bokuto still didn’t know why Akaashi thought that paprika was a good seasoning for an omelet. When pressed Akaashi had only said “That’s what they put on deviled eggs.” before continuing to viciously scrub the reddish grit from the offending frying pan.

Carefully Bokuto picked up his chopsticks and tentatively began to eat. One bite. Two. No disaster so far. His mouth wasn’t on fire, and his gag reflex had not made an appearance. So far so good.

“How is it.” Bokuto looked up into his boyfriend's face. Akaashi was intense at the best of times. He met every challenge in life with a ferocious tenacity that Bokuto found incredible, and his latest determination to learn how to cook was no exception. Unfortunately, cooking seemed to be something Akaashi couldn’t overcome with his usual tactics of unwavering focus and precision.

“Ish good?” Bokuto mumbled around a mouthful of chicken. It wasn’t a lie, not really. 

OK, maybe a little.

“Bokuto-san, I cannot improve if you do not give me the necessary feedback. Please skip the platitudes and tell me what you really think.”

Bokuto swallowed. He had never been able to lie to Akaashi, but that didn’t mean the truth didn’t present a different set of challenges.

“It’s a good first try. Way better than last time! I don’t want to throw up or anything! You're definitely getting better, and - “

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi’s eyes drilled into him and Bokuto started to squirm.

“The-onions-are-under-cooked, the-broccoli-is-overcooked, the-chicken-is-dry and the-sauce-needs-salt,” Bokuto muttered, before shoving another bite of dry, flavorless chicken into his mouth.

Akaashi’s gaze didn’t waver, but his knuckles had turned white where they were grabbing the counter between him and his boyfriend. Bokuto felt a twinge of panic in his gut.

“The rice is great, though! Perfectly cooked! No lumps or anything this time! You're totally improving!”

“You made the rice.” Akaashi hissed.

“Oh. Right.”

Akaashi dropped his gaze to the plate between them and for a wild moment, Bokuto expected the dish to burst into flame under the scrutiny of those piercing green eyes.

“I don’t understand.” the admission came through gritted teeth. It was not a phrase Akaashi had much need for, and not one he would utter lightly. Bokuto took another bite of mediocre stir fry and didn’t say anything, leaving blank space for Akaashi to work out his frustrations.

“I followed the recipe exactly. I cooked the chicken at medium heat for the precise same amount of time on each side. The vegetables were added in the correct order and in the time intervals the recipe called for. I had to adjust for the imprecision in the times but I don’t see how that could…”

Bokuto slowly chewed a piece of chicken. “You had to adjust?”

“Well, it would say something like four to six minutes instead of an exact time, but I simply split the difference, which I assumed would suffice.”

“Um, I guess… sometimes… But what about, like color and stuff? Like, cooking the onions 'till they’re translucent and soft.” Bokuto withered under his boyfriend’s gaze.

“Those are subjective. Why wouldn’t I get the same results as long as I had the same time and temperature that was called for?”

“But you probably wouldn’t have the same temperature. All stoves are a little different. Our stove takes a bit longer to cook onions than the stove at mom’s house.” Bokuto shoved a soggy piece of broccoli into his mouth. “I think it’s cause this one is electric and hers is gas? Maybe.”

Akaashi was not an expressive person at the best of times, and so to the average observer, he would have taken the revelation that stoves are not universal rather well. To Bokuto, who had been learning to read Akaashi’s moods since his second year in high school, saw a man teetering on the edge.

“But it’s not that bad! I can show you what all those steps look like and once you know it'll be easy!” Akaashi’s eyes dropped to the plate of food in Bokuto’s hands. Only the highly honed reflexes of a pro athlete allowed Bokuto to twist away in time to avoid having his underwhelming dinner snatched out of his hands.

“Give it to me. I’m throwing it away.” Akaashi lunged again and Bokuto ducked before beating a hasty retreat to the dining room, Akaashi hard on his heels. 

The dance continued for a few minutes before Bokuto managed to put the dining table in between the two of them, taking the chance to shove more of the stir fry into his mouth.

“Bokuto-san. This is ridiculous. If it isn’t good then we need to get rid of it. There is no need for you to put yourself out to eat something that isn’t worth your time.”

Bokuto’s response was lost in the mouthful of vegetables and sauce.

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Bokuto swallowed. “You made it for me. I want to eat it.”

Akaashi sighed and slumped into the chair in front of him and slammed his forehead against the table.

“Why is this so hard? I don’t understand what keeps going wrong. Lots of people cook. It’s a common skill. It shouldn’t be this hard for me.” across from him there was a gentle clink as Bokuto set his now empty plate on the table. He sank into a chair of his own and lowered his chin to rest on the table, eyes level with his dejected boyfriend. 

“I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. A lot of cooking comes from knowing what stuff you have cooked in the past looks or smells like. Every time you mess up you get closer to doing it right the next time. I mean, now you know that when onions look the way they did today they need to cook longer, right? And I can show what broccoli and chicken would look like when they’re getting close to ready and then you’ll know.”

Tentatively, Bokuto stretched his hand out to the middle of the table and left it there, palm up. Akaashi let his head roll to one side to stare at it. After a second of silence, he reached out and took the offered hand in his own.

“All right, I’m in your care next time, Koutaro.” the smile Bokuto gave him was so big and bright sometimes Akaashi felt like he could feel its warmth all the way down to his toes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! this is my first time posting. I don't have anyone to edit and my grasp of grammar is rudimentary at best, so I imagine this will be a trial to read for anyone who knows what a comma splice is. 
> 
> Either way thank you for taking the time to read and please tell me what you think!


End file.
